


Bones Grow Back In

by anglophileprussian



Category: MASH (TV)
Genre: Angst, Episode: s04e04 The Late Captain Pierce, Hopeful Ending, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, M/M, Presumed Dead
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-30
Updated: 2017-05-30
Packaged: 2018-11-06 23:48:06
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,574
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11046867
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anglophileprussian/pseuds/anglophileprussian
Summary: Hawkeye has a lot of fun when he's declared dead because of some bureaucratic mishap. He can't see the way it ripples back to the States and brings one man's shaky foundation to pieces.





	Bones Grow Back In

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this so long ago. Someone might be looking for more M*A*S*H fic so here you go

It was his own fault and he knew it. The first time he'd sat down at his desk, only a few days after getting home, he'd stared at the paper for an hour before he finally gave up. There were no words that could make up for him not saying goodbye and he knew it. He didn't try to write again but the envelope and blank sheet of paper were put into the hall closet with the rest of his "souvenirs", as Louise called them. Sometimes he thinks that she would call the whole war an "incident" if she thought he'd believe it.    
  
_["Dear Hawkeye,  
If you didn't know already, I'm back Boston in one piece, though I think I left my stomach back in the Pacific somewhere.  ~~I'm sorry that I didn't wait~~  How are things going back at the old 4077?  ~~I hope you didn't have to sleep in the Swamp alone for too long, it gets pretty dark in there at night without someone to talk to.~~   ~~Did Radar give you my farewell present?~~  I had "]_  
  
That didn't mean that he didn't keep in touch in his own way. At first he'd written to Father Mulcahy and Radar for news of how Hawkeye was doing. He'd heard about Hawkeye's attempt at seeing him before his plane took off and about his replacement, Hunnicut. It had taken a long time before they would give the information freely, without threatening to tell Hawkeye about it. After a while though, his desperation for any news wore them down and they agreed.  
  
One thing he hadn't been expecting to see (because he'd expected Louise's reaction, his girl's smiles, the dreams) was the letter from Daniel Pierce. It was waiting for him on his kitchen table one morning, totally innocent, and it had taken an hour or so and a whole lot of liquor for him to actually open it up. Its contents weren't anything ground-shaking; Congratulations on his return home, a few jokes that mirrored his son's own wit if not a little less bitter, and a request to stay in touch. The man's tone was so much like his son's towards the end, the tired request that he didn't expect to be granted, that he wrote his response at once.  
  
_["-I hope you don't think that I've been too forward in writing you this letter. I got your address from a letter your wife had sent me, asking if I'd heard news of you. Apparently it had been a while since your last letter. Luckily I did have news for her; my son speaks of you often in his letters. I'm glad he had such a good friend in such a terrible place.-"]_  
  
The correspondence went sporadically at first, a letter a week, until they became almost regular. Louise would hand them over without looking, her shoulder's stiff and it was so obvious that she didn't like them. Like his letters to the 4077 she saw it as a failure to let go. He didn't know how to tell her that letting go had never been an option.  
  
One afternoon, he was just opening his front door when Becky opened it for him from the inside. She smiled at him the same way she did every day, like she was happy he'd come home again (and how long would it be before she stopped expecting him to leave?).  
  
"Hello Sunshine." He picked her up around the waist, stepping inside so he could put his bag down and close the door.  
  
"Mommy says someone is on the phone for you."  
  
"She did?" he cast a quick glance into the kitchen. On the counter, the phone was sitting off the hook and his wife was at the sink, looking purposefully in the opposite direction. "Did she say who it was?"  
  
Becky shook her head and let him steer her into the kitchen, holding tightly to his hip. He took the phone and said, "Hello?"  
  
_"Hello, is this John McIntyre?"_  an unfamiliar voice asked.  
  
"Yes? Who is this?"  
  
_"Daniel Pierce. I hope I haven't imposed too much by calling you."_  
  
Surprised, he spared a moment to wonder whether or not Daniel Pierce considered anything too much of an imposition. He cast a nervous glance at his wife, not even sure why he was nervous. "I can't say I was expecting a call. What's the occasion?"  
  
The Pierce on the other line made a noise like he was trying to clear his throat but having a hard time of it. He was just about to give in and repeat the question when Pierce said,  
  
_"This is about my son."_  
  
"Your son?" His voice must have sounded strange because Lousie immediately turned to face him, pretty eyes furrowing with concern. He tried to wave his hand in what was hopefully a comforting fashion as he said, "How is he?"  
  
_"He isn't. Not anymore."_  
  
"He's…" He didn't notice he was shaking until he felt Louise's hand on his shoulder. Her concerned look had evolved into one of pity, the same one she had when she woke him from his nightmares.  
  
_"I just got the letter today."_  
  
And wasn't it disgusting that, just that morning John had been reading a letter from Radar, thinking that everything was alright. That he could be reading about his friend when he wasn't even there anymore.  
  
"What got him?" he asks because what else was there to say?  
  
_"Does it matter?"_  
  
John scratched his scalp and rested his chin on the palm of his hand and said, "I'm sorry for you loss."  
  
The instant it came out of his mouth he knew it was the completely wrong thing to say. If he had known what the right thing was, he might have tried that, but he didn't. Distantly, he could hear his wife shoo his daughter out of the room but it sounded like far away, like he was back in Korea and talking through a telephone, a few senses short of a real thing.  
  
Daniel Pierce didn't make any sound, just deep breaths like he was working up to something big. Then all of a sudden he let it all out in one long sigh and said in a flat tone,  _"I should probably let you get back to what you were doing. Can't let an old man like me get in the way of family; in the end it's the only thing you've got isn't it."_  
  
"Yeah, it is."  
  
_"I'll call when I know more about the funeral. Goodbye Dr. McIntyre."_  
  
There was a click and then a dial tone. Suddenly, the phone was just a phone and he was sitting on a chair in his kitchen, feeling so clammy he could have a fever. He took his time hanging up the phone then went back into the living room. Louise was on the couch, Kathy's birthday dress in hand as she embroidered the skirt. It looked like something out of a picture he'd seen back in Korea, all black and white and comfortable without being real.  
  
"Bad news?" she asked as he passed by.  
  
John stopped at the foot of the stairs. "Hawkeye's dead."  
  
"Hawkeye Pierce? Your friend from Korea? What happened?"  
  
"Does it matter? He's dead no matter how it happened."  
  
"Where are you going?"  
  
He sighed and stopped again. "Getting a blanket."  
  
"You're sleeping on the couch again."  
  
"Looks like it."  
  
Louise sighed softly as John disappeared upstairs. His footsteps could be heard, stopping in his girls' room to say an early goodnight then in their bedroom for only a second. When he came back down he had their spare comforter and pillow his arms and she had taken all the throw pillows and stacked them by the window.  
  
"It's still early," he said even as he made his bed.  
  
She didn't acknowledge his comment and instead looked at him, lips downturned. "If you plan on drinking please don't do it while the girls are still awake. They still have some respect for their father."  
  
He didn't bother to ask if she still did because he knew the answer already. "I don't think drinking is such a good idea tonight."  
  
"When has that ever stopped you before?"  
  
She smoothed out the blanket with both hands, determined to not catch his eyes. It seemed as though they were always looking away from each other lately.    
  
"Maybe you should sleep down here for a while?" she suggested. "Until the nightmares go away."  
  
"Yeah, sure."  
  
He didn't say goodnight because, despite everything that had happened, he was still crap at goodbyes. He still watched her go up the stairs and listened to her footsteps as she said goodnight to the kids. She stopped in their bedroom and the house was quiet.  
  
John turned off the light and lay down on the sofa, fully clothed, and pulled the blanket up to his chin. When his eyes drooped he'd snap them open again and it was like being in Korea again except there was no one in the cot across from him, muttering in their sleep. He wondered if he'd ever really left.  
  
_[-the kind of mix up the army would be above, but I've discovered that the army isn't above anything. Still, I'm glad that there is still a chance Hawkeye might come home safely.-]_  
  
The damage of course was already done. John never woke up. Trapper John wrote Hawkeye a letter and waited.


End file.
